Spoonbread

Below is an article about the American dish known as Spoonbread:



SPOOONBREAD

The dish known as spoonbread is a cornmeal-based specialty that is prevalent in the American South. Although named a "bread", the dish is closer in consistency and taste to many savory puddings, like Britain's Yorkshire pudding. According to some recipes, spoonbread is similar to a cornmeal soufflé. However, most Southern recipes for this dish do not involve whipping the eggs to incorporate air.

The first published recipe for Spoonbread appeared in a book written by Sarah Rutledge in 1847. Another recipe appeared in the cookbook called "Practical Cook Book ", written by a Mrs. Bliss of Boston in 1850. She called the dish, "Indian puffs". However, Spoonbread dates long before the Antebellum period. European colonists probably first learned about the dish from Native tribes along the Atlantic seaboard. The traditional South Carolina low country version of Spoonbread was called Awendaw (or Owendaw). It was named after a Native settlement outside of Charleston.

Although Spoonbread dated back many centuries, it became very popular with American around the turn of the 20th century. And the town of Berea, Kentucky has been home to an annual Spoonbread Festival, which has been held in September since 1997.

Below is a recipe from the Epicurious.com website for Fresh Corn Spoonbread:


Corn Spoonbread

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk
1/3 cup yellow cornmeal
1 1/2 cups fresh corn kernels (from 2 to 3 ears)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 teaspoon salt
4 large eggs, separated


Preparations

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Bring milk, cornmeal, corn kernels, butter, and salt to a boil in a 3-quart heavy saucepan over moderately high heat, stirring frequently, and simmer, stirring constantly, until thickened, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat and cool 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, then whisk in yolks.

Beat whites and a pinch of salt with an electric mixer at medium speed just until soft peaks form. Whisk one fourth of whites into cornmeal mixture in pan to lighten, then fold in remaining whites gently but thoroughly. Spread mixture evenly in a buttered 9 1/2-inch deep-dish glass pie plate or 1 1/2-quart shallow casserole and bake in middle of oven until puffed and golden, 15 to 20 minutes. Serve immediately (like a soufflé, spoon bread collapses quickly).

"STAR WARS: EPISODE VI - RETURN OF THE JEDI" (1983) Review

"STAR WARS: EPISODE VI - RETURN OF THE JEDI" (1983) Review

The third movie and sixth episode of George Lucas' original STAR WARS saga, "STAR WARS: EPISODE VI - RETURN OF THE JEDI", has become something of a conundrum for me. It was the first STAR WARS movie that immediately became a favorite of mine. But in the years that followed, my opinion of the film had changed. 

Directed by Richard Marquand, "RETURN OF THE JEDI" picked up a year after "STAR WARS: EPISODE V - THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK" left off. The movie begins with the arrival of the Emperor Palpatine aka Darth Sidious and his apprentice, Darth Vader to the Empire's new Darth Star, which had been in construction above the moon of Endor. Luke Skywalker, Jedi-in-training and Rebel Alliance pilot, finally construct a plan to rescue his friend, Han Solo, from the Tatooine gangster Jabba the Hutt. His plan nearly fails, despite help from Princess Leia Organa, Lando Calrissian, Chewbacca and his droids C3-P0 and R2-D2. Despite the odds against them, the group of friends finally succeed in rescuing Han and killing Jabba.

Following the Tatooine rescue, Luke returns to Dagobah to finish his Jedi training with Jedi Master Yoda. However, Luke discovers Yoda on the verge of death from old age. When the old Jedi Master finally dies, Obi-Wan Kenobi's ghost appears and verifies what Luke had learned on Bespin in "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK" - that Darth Vader is his father, Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan insists that Luke has to kill his father in order to destroy the Sith Order, but the latter is reluctant to commit patricide. Eventually, Luke returns to the Rebel Alliance rendezvous point, and volunteers to assist his friends in their mission to destroy the the Death Star.

I was not kidding when I stated that "RETURN OF THE JEDI" was the first STAR WARS movie to become a personal favorite of mine. I disliked "A NEW HOPE" when I first saw it. It took me nearly a decade to get over my dislike and embrace it. "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK" creeped me out a bit, due to its dark plot, the revelation of Darth Vader's true identity and Han's unhappy fate. The movie has become one of my two favorites in the franchise. But I loved "RETURN OF THE JEDI" from the beginning. By then, I finally learned to embrace Lucas' saga. And the positive ending with no potential of a sequel made me equally happy. And yet . . . my feelings toward the movie gradually changed. Although I still maintained positive feelings toward the movie, I ceased to regard it as my personal favorite from the STAR WARSfranchise.

"RETURN OF THE JEDI" did have its problems. One, the movie featured both a second Death Star and Luke's return to Tatooine. For me, this signalled an attempt by George Lucas to recapture some of the essence from the first movie, "A NEW HOPE". In other words, I believe Lucas used the Death Star and Tatooine to relive the glory of the first movie for those fans who had been disappointed with "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK". And there is nothing that will quickly turn me off is an artist who is willing to repeat the past for the sake of success. 

Tatooine proved to be an even bigger disappointment, especially since I have never been fond of the sequence at Jabba's palace. I never understood why it took Luke and his friends an entire year to find Han. Boba Fett had made his intentions to turn Han over to Jabba very clearly in "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK". So, why did it take them so long to launch a rescue? Exactly what was Luke's rescue plan regarding Han in the first place? Not long after she arrived with Chewbacca, Leia made her own attempt to free Han from the carbonite block and failed. Had Luke intended for this to happen? Had he intended to be tossed into a pit with a Rancor? Were all of these minor incidents merely parts of Luke's plan to finally deal with Jabba on the latter's sail barge? If so, it was a piss-poor and convoluted plan created by Lucas and Lawrence Kasdan. 

"RETURN OF THE JEDI" also featured the development of Luke's skills with the Force. Since the movie made it clear that he had not seen Yoda since he departed Dagobah in order to rescue Han, Leia and Chewbacca from Bespin; I could not help but wonder how Luke managed to develop his Force skills without the help of a tutor. I eventually learned that Luke honed his Force skills by reading a manual he had found inside Obi-Wan Kenobi's Tatooine hut. Frankly, I find this scenario ludicrous. Luke's conversation with Obi-Wan's ghost on Dagobah featured one major inconsistency. Obi-Wan claimed that Owen Lars was his brother, in whose care he left Luke. Considering Obi-Wan's unemotional response to Owen's death in "A NEW HOPE", I found this hard to believe and could not help but view Obi-Wan's words as a major blooper. Especially since Obi-Wan had reacted with more emotion over Luke's reluctance to become a Jedi and kill Darth Vader. 

Many fans have complained about the cheesy acting and wooden dialogue found the Prequel Trilogy movies. These same fans have failed to notice similar flaws in the Original Trilogy movies, including "RETURN OF THE JEDI". Especially"RETURN OF THE JEDI". Mind you, the movie did feature some first-rate performances. But none of it came from Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher. I really enjoyed Ford and Fisher's performances in "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK". But I feel they really dropped the ball in "RETURN OF THE JEDI". They seemed to be phoning in their performances and the Leia/Han ended up rather wooden and unsatisfying to me. This was especially apparent in the scene in which Leia, after learning the truth about Vader's identity, seemed too upset to answer Han's demanding questions about her conversation with the departed Luke. Both Fisher and Ford really came off as wooden in that scene. When I had first saw "RETURN OF THE JEDI", I despised the Ewoks. My feelings for them have somewhat tempered over the years. But I still find them rather infantile, even for a STAR WARS movie. Although I no longer dislike the Ewoks, I still find that village scene in which C3-P0 revealed the past adventures of Luke and his friends very cheesy and wince-inducing. Unlike the past two films, the camaraderie between the group seemed forced . . . and very artificial. The Ewok village scene also revealed a perplexing mystery - namely the dress worn by Leia in this image:



For years, I have wondered why Leia would carry such a dress with her, during the mission to Endor. I eventually learned that the Ewoks created the dress for her, after she became their guest. And I could not help but wonder why they had bothered in the first place. Luke and Han did not acquire new outfits from the Ewoks after they became the latter's guests. And how did the Ewoks create the dress so fast? Within a matter of hours? 

Thankfully, "RETURN OF THE JEDI" had plenty of virtues. One of those virtues turned out to be Mark Hamill, who gave the best and probably the most skillful performance in the movie as Luke Skywalker. Unlike the previous two movies, Luke has become a more self-assured man and Force practitioner, who undergoes his greatest emotional journey in his determination to learn the complete story regarding his family's past and help his father overcome any remaining connections to the Sith. He was ably supported by James Earl Jones (through voice) and David Prowse (through body movement), who skillfully conveyed Darth Vader/Anakin Skywalker's growing dissatisfaction with the Sith and himself."RETURN OF THE JEDI" also marked the real debut of Ian McDiarmid's portrayal of politician and Sith Lord Palpatine aka Darth Sidious. Although the actor achieved critical acclaim for his portrayal of Palpatine in the Prequel Trilogy movies, I must say that I was impressed by his performance in this film. McDiarmid was in his late 30s at the time, but I he did a first-rate job in portraying Palpatine as a powerful and intelligent Sith Lord and galactic leader, whose skills as a manipulator has eroded from years of complacency and arrogance. Billy Dee Williams returned as ex-smuggler Lando Calrissian, who has joined the Rebel Alliance cause. Although his portrayal of Lando did not strike me as memorable as I did in "THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK", I believe he did a very solid job - especially in the Battle of Endor sequence. I finally have to comment on the Jabba the Hutt character, who proved to be very memorable thanks to Larry Ward's voiceovers and the puppeteer team supervised by David Barclay.

"RETURN OF THE JEDI" also featured some first-rate action scenes. The best, in my opinion, was the speeder bike sequence in which Luke and Leia chased a squad of Imperial stormtroopers on patrol through the Endor forest. This sequence was actually shot in the Redwood National Forest in California. The combined talents of Lucas, Marquand's direction, Alan Hume's photography, the ILM special effects, Ben Burtt's sound effects (which received an Oscar nomination) and especially the editing team of Sean Barton, Marcia Lucas and Duwayne Dunham made this sequence one of the most exciting, nail biting and memorable ones in the entire saga. But there were other scenes and sequences that impressed me. Despite my dislike of the entire sequence featuring the rescue of Han Solo from Jabba the Hutt, I cannot deny that the scene aboard Jabba's sail barge proved to be entertaining. Even the ground battle between the Imperial forces and the Rebel forces (assisted by the Ewoks) proved to be not only entertaining, but also interesting. The idea of the Ewoks utilizing the natural elements of Endor to battle and defeat Imperial technology provided an interesting message on the superiority of nature. And if I must be honest, I found the destruction of this second Death Star to be more exciting than the first featured in "A NEW HOPE". 

Despite the barrage of action scenes, there were a few dramatic scenes that I found impressive. The best one proved to be the confrontation between Luke, Vader and Palpatine aboard the second Death Star. Luke and Papatine's battle of wills over Vader's soul not only provided some interesting performances from Hamill, Earl Jones/Prowse and McDiarmid; it also resulted in one of the most emotionally satisfying moments in the movie. Another excellent dramatic scene featured Luke's discussion with Obi-Wan's ghost regarding Vader's true identity. Both Hamill and Alec Guinness gave excellent performances in the scene. It also, rather surprisingly, revealed the flawed aspect of the Jedi's righteous nature for the very first time. 

After the release of the six STAR WARS movies produced by George Lucas, I had stopped regarding "RETURN OF THE JEDI" as the best in the saga. Unfortunately, I now rate it as the least most satisfying film produced by Lucas in the saga, so far. Certain plot holes and some weak performances made it impossible for me to view it with such high esteem. Yet, I cannot say that I dislike the film. In fact, I still enjoyed it very much, thanks to a first-rate performance by Mark Hamill, who really held the movie together; some excellent action sequences and a surprising, yet satisfying twist that ended the tale of one Anakin Skywalker. Despite its flaws, "RETURN OF THE JEDI" still managed to be a very satisfying movie.

"THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN" (2012) Photo Gallery

Below are images from the reboot movie, "THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN".  Directed by Marc Webb, the movie starred Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker aka Spider-Man:



"THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN" (2012) Photo Gallery

"DOWNTON ABBEY" – Series Two (2011) Retrospective

"DOWNTON ABBEY" – SERIES TWO (2011) Retrospective

The debut of Julian Fellowes' series about an aristocratic family during the last few years before the outbreak of World War I garnered a great deal acclaim and awards, earlier this year. The success of the series led the ITV and Fellowes to continue the saga of the Earl of Grantham, his family and servants in a new season.

Series Two of "DOWNTON ABBEY" covered the last two years of World War I and the first year of peace during the years 1916 to 1919. Episode One began with Matthew Crawley, the heir presumptive for the Earl of Grantham enduring the last days of the Somme Offensive in November 1916. The story immediately shifted toward the personal dramas that unfolded over eight to nine episodes.

Series One focused upon the entail issue that prevented Robert Crawley, the Earl of Grantham from bequeathing his title or any of his fortune to his three daughters - Lady Mary, Lady Edith and Lady Sybil Crawley and forced him to accept Matthew Crawley, a third cousin raised as a middle-class cousin as his heir. Season Two focused upon the Crawleys' attempts to adjust to the changes caused by the war, their love lives and the impact of the war upon their servants.

One of the main subplots introduced in this season's first episode turned out to be Matthew's engagement to Lavinia Swire, the daughter of a London solicitor. Most of the family and servants like Mr. Carson oppose Matthew's engagement to Lavinia, due to her status as a member of the middle-class and her position as an impediment to a reconciliation between Matthew and the family's elder daughter, Lady Mary. The youngest Crawley daughter, Lady Sybil, becomes a wartime nurse and faces a growing attraction to the family's Irish-born chauffeur, Tom Branson. Meanwhile, middle daughter Lady Edith learns how to drive and later, becomes a nurse's aide. Violet, Dowager Countess of Grantham embarks on a campaign to ensure Matthew and Lady Mary's engagement. Meanwhile, the scandal from her Season One encounter with Turkish diplomat, Kamal Pamuk, threatens to rear its ugly head for Lady Mary. She seeks help from Sir Richard Carlisle, a suitor, to nip the scandal in the bud. But he exacts a price from her, for his help - an official engagement to marry. Cora, Countess of Grantham and Matthew's mother, Isobel Crawley, transform Downton Abbey into a convalescent hospital for Army officers. The two become involved in a power struggle before Lady Grantham assumes full control. Only Lord Grantham spends the rest of the war with nothing to do and sinks into a depression over his inactivity.

Most of the servants continue their household duties at Downton Abbey. Just as valet John Bates announces his intentions to divorce his wife to lady love and head housemaid Anna Smith, his wife Vera make the first of a few visits. Her threat to expose Lady Mary's Season One tryst with the dead Turkish diplomat, Mr. Kemal Pamuk, forces Bates to give up his position as Lord Grantham's valet and return to her. After being needled for being out of uniform, footman William Mason caves in and joins the Army. His decision eventually has an impact on Daisy, the scullery maid for whom he harbors unrequited love. Both the cook Mrs. Patmore and housekeeper Mrs. Hughes, pressures Daisy into becoming William's fiancé before he leaves for the war front in Episode Three. And when William returns to Downton Abbey, mortally wounded, Mrs. Patmore coerces Daisy into marrying him out of pity, leaving a bad taste in the scullery maid's mouth. After the trick she had pulled that cause Lady Grantham to miscarry in Season One, lady's maid Sarah O'Brien becomes increasingly devoted to her mistress. Yet, she continues to go out of her way to make life miserable for Mr. Bates, by communicating with his wife. Downton Abbey's new housemaid, Ethel Parks, becomes involved with one of the patients at the Crawleys' convalescent hospital, which results in a baby for her. She seeks help from Mrs. Hughes to contact the officer's parents for financial assistance. Former footman Thomas Barrow started out the season as a medic in France. But the horrors of war drives him to deliberately expose his hand to gunfire in order to permanently leave the front. He eventually becomes a medic at the local hospital near the Crawley estate and later, as an aide at the Crawleys' convalescent hospital.

I just learned that "DOWNTON ABBEY" recently entered the Guinness Book of World Records as the "most critically acclaimed English-language television show" for 2011, becoming the first co-produced U.S./British show to be recognised as such by the Guinness Book of Records. One, I did not know that "DOWNTON ABBEY" was co-produced in both Great Britain and the U.S. And two, as much as I enjoy the series, I am beginning to feel that a good deal of its acclaim might be undeserved.

One might assume that I dislike "DOWNTON ABBEY". On the contrary, I like it very much. I became a big fan of the series when its first season aired. But I also noticed certain flaws in Julian Fellowes' depiction of Downton Abbey's inhabitants that continued to both flourish and increase in Season Two. There were aspects of Season Two that I admired. The cast, led by Hugh Bonneville and Elizabeth McGovern continued to give first-rate performances. Michelle Dockery and Maggie Smith's performances seemed to stand out with most fans and critics. I cannot say that I agree with them. I suspect that Fellowes' detailed attention to Dockery's character and Smith's witty one-liners made them more popular than the other characters. The series' early 20th century costumes remained exquisite as ever, thanks to Susannah Buxton and Rosalind Ebbutt's designs. And aside from the few combat sequences, the series' production values and designs continued to be top-notch.

The second season of "DOWNTON ABBEY" provided some truly memorable moments. The Spanish Flu sequence in Episode Eight impressed me, with the exception of how the epidemic claimed its only victim. People might find this surprising, but I have always enjoyed Laura Carmichael's portrayal of middle daughter, Lady Edith. She was never a villainess to me even back in Season One. I understood her problems. However, I was happy to see that her character developed further when she finally overcame her resentment toward older sister, Lady Mary. I also enjoyed watching the experiences of former footman Thomas Barrow in the season's first two episodes. The scenes featuring his combat experiences in France and his work with Dr. Clarkson and Lady Sybil Crawley at the village hospital really impressed me. One other character that made Season Two bearable for me, turned out to be Mrs. Hughes, the family's housekeeper. Her down-to-earth nature, along with her efforts to help housemaid Ethel Parks and her comments about Lady Mary pretty much anchored the season for me.

Unfortunately . . . when it came to Season Two, the bad outweighed the good. One of my complaints about Season One was that the only characters that seemed to display any real complexity were members of the aristocratic Crawley family. Aside from a few scenes, most of the servants continued to be portrayed in a one-dimensional manner. In Julian Fellowes' world (without Robert Altman and Bob Balaban looking over his shoulders), the only good working-class character was one loyal to his or her employer.

From the moment she was introduced arrogantly proclaiming her desire for a life outside of service, Ethel Parks was doomed. Unlike Gwen Dawson from Season One, she did not seek or acquire the help from a Crawley to rise in the world. She slept with an officer and paid the price with a baby and unemployment. Fellowes seemed to have ceased portraying former footman Thomas as a one-note villain and portray him in a more sympathetic light in the season's first two episodes. By the time Thomas returned to Downton Abbey as a medic at the estate's convalescent hospital, the former footman returned to his usual sneers and sharp comments. Only he did so, standing in the doorway or sitting at the servants' table, sneering. And when he tried to earn enough money through the black market to start his own business at the end of the war, he discovered that he had been swindled. Thomas was forced to seek work at Downton Abbey again. I cannot help but wonder if he would have been more successful if he had sought the "noble" help of Lord Grantham or some other member of the Crawley family.

The subplot involving Daisy, William and Mrs. Patmore disgusted me. Period. I found it bad enough that Mrs. Patmore bullied and cajoled Daisy into a deception by becoming William's fiancée and later, his wife. In the "Christmas Special", Fellowes decided to condone Mrs. Patmore's bullying by allowing Daisy to form some kind of relationship with William's dad. It was sickening to watch and I cannot believe that Fellowes would actually finish a subplot on this note, because many of the fans wanted Daisy to be in love with William. Mr. Carson remained ridiculously loyal to the Crawleys and more importantly, to Lady Mary. In fact, his loyalty led him to consistently make insulting and snobbish remarks about Matthew's middle-class fiancée, Lavinia. Anyone could have perceived this as part of Fellowes' efforts to portray Mr. Carson in an ambiguous light. Unfortunately, Fellowes' one-dimensional portrayal of Lavinia as a dull "goody-goody" have led many fans to embrace Mr. Carson's disapproval of her. On the other hand, Fellowes did an excellent job in assassinating the family's radical chauffeur, Tom Branson. His friendship with Lady Sybil had created a shipper's following by the end of Season One. But once Fellowes ridiculed Branson's radicial beliefs in two scenes - his plan to embarrass a visiting British Army general, which backfired; and his casual dismissal of the Romanovs - he became one of the most disliked characters of Season Two. And many fans expressed disapproval when Lady Sybil began to hint some kind of attraction toward him, claiming that their relationship lacked any chemistry. The hypocrisy toward Branson, generated by Fellowes' conservatism, was astounding to witness. Even Sarah O'Brien did not fare well. Although she became more loyal toward the Countess of Grantham following the latter's miscarriage in Season One, O'Brien continued her hostility toward John Bates even when Thomas lost interest in the valet. And the reason behind O'Brien's hostility remained consistently vague, until she dropped it altogether in the wake of Bates' arrest.

Speaking of Bates, his romance with Anna Smith turned out to be one of the biggest jokes of the season. I never thought it would come to this. Honestly. Aside from the appearance of the one-note villainous Vera Bates, nothing happened. I am trying to remember what was so interesting about their relationship. Instead, I find myself recalling how much I found Bates' martyr complex so tedious. Why on earth would he give up a job that he liked to prevent the likes of Lady Mary from facing a scandal about her one night tryst with the late Kemal Pamuk? I mean . . . really! If Vera Bates knew about the scandal, half of Britain's upper-class families and their servants must have heard the rumor. Meanwhile, Anna kept making a chump of herself, while buying Bates' promises of how he was going to get rid of Vera. I wish Fellowes never brought her on the scene in the first place. I enjoyed Maria Doyle Kennedy's performance in "THE TUDORS", but ended up with one of the dullest and badly written villains in television history.

For once, the Crawley family did not fare any better. Lady Mary remained the only upper-class character with any real complexity and a strong subplot. I suspect that the character became a personal favorite of Fellowes, and actress Michelle Dockery benefited a great deal from his writing. However, not even she or Dan Stevens could overcome the maudlin romance that their characters had been saddled with in Season Two. The Matthew/Mary romance had started as an interesting one in Season One, and transformed into a cliché-riddled love story fit for a bad romance novel. The two worse moments in their relationship turned out to be that Godawful moment when Matthew (who had been reported missing) suddenly appeared at Downton Abbey during a concert, joining Mary in "If You Were the Only Girl" and when Mary experienced a "feeling" the moment Matthew suffered a major wound in Episode Five. I had to struggle to keep from throwing up during both scenes. And although Lady Edith managed to overcome her resentment of Lady Mary, the two subplots that Fellowes saddled on her character went no where. The "Patrick Crawley" subplot, in which a Canadian officer claimed to be one of her father's former heirs . . . simply went no where. Her "affair" with a local farmer, which consisted of a kiss, ended just as soon as the farmer's wife had her dismissed. I have already revealed what happened with Lady Sybil's relationship with Tom Branson.

Cora, Countess of Grantham was involved in two major subplots. One involved her power struggle with Isobel Crawley (Matthew's mother) over who would manage the convalescent hospital and Downton Abbey. Poor Isobel was portrayed as a tyrannical do-gooder from the middle-class. And many fans cheered when Cora managed oust her from Downton Abbey. I did not. All Cora had to do was remind Isobel that she was mistress of Downton Abbey, while the latter continue to run the hospital. Instead, she resorted to a passive-aggressive means to get rid of Isobel and I ended up feeling disgusted. I was also disgusted by the machinations that Cora and the Dowager Countess used to detract Isobel from keeping the convalescent hospital opened after the war ended. I found it ridiculous. They seemed incapable of simply telling Isobel that Downton Abbey would return to being a private home. Yet, once again, fans cheered over the aristocratic women's triumph. Sickening. Robert, the Earl of Grantham came close to being written as a complex character. He spent most of the season feeling useless, because he was unable to obtain a command and go to the front. Eventually, Robert's feelings of uselessness and abandonment led him to become romantically involved with a housemaid named Jane Moorsum. This subplot would have worked, if it had been introduced . . . before Episode Five. Aside from plotting Lady Mary and Matthew's reconciliation, Violet, the Dowager Countess spent most of the season spouting one-liners. I hate to say this, but I eventually found this tiresome. Poor Maggie Smith had been reduced to being the show's comic relief.

Thanks to Vera Bates, Lady Mary had to seek the help of her suitor, press baron Sir Richard Carlisle, to help her get rid of the blackmailing woman. In return, Lady Mary promised to become officially engaged to Sir Richard. Poor Iain Glen. Vera Bates was not the only badly written villain to appear in Season Two. Sir Richard was another. Despite his title, Sir Richard was a self-made man, who certainly did not originate from the upper-classes. Both Lady Mary and Lord Grantham did not hesitate to let him know. More importantly, Fellowes did not hesitate to portray him as some mustache-twirling villain without any complexities, whatsoever. Which is not surprising, considering he was not an aristocrat. Poor Iain Glen. His previous roles were a hell of a lot more ambiguous and interesting than Sir Richard "Snidely Whiplash" Carlisle.

I might as well face it. Season Two of "DOWNTON ABBEY" disappointed me. Sure, there were a few aspects about it that I found admirable. But Fellowes' writing simply undermined the show's quality. I had hoped that his portrayal of the Crawleys' servants would improve from Season One. It did not. Worse, the season was marred by incomplete subplots that went no where and badly written romances that left me shaking my head in disgust. I am almost tempted not to watch Season Three.  But I will in the hopes that it will signal a return to form.

"THE BEGUILED" (2017) Review

"THE BEGUILED" (2017) Review

I have never been a diehard fan of Southern Gothic fiction. Not really. But there have been some fictional works in that genre that have appealed to me. In fact, if you ask me, I could come up with a pretty good list of Southern Gothic movie and television productions that I have always enjoyed. 

Thomas Cullinan's 1966 novel, "The Beguiled" aka "A Painted Devil" first came to my attention when I saw the 1971 movie adaptation of the novel years ago. I became an instant fan of the film and read Cullinan's novel. Then I became a fan of the novel. So when I heard that director Sofia Coppola planned to direct her own film adaptation, I looked forward to it. One, I liked the story. Two, I am a sucker for a good Civil War film, being an amateur historian and movie nut. And I had also learned Coppola had won the Palme d'Or Best Director award (the second woman to do so) at the 2017 Cannes Film Festival for this film.

Don Siegel's 1971 adaptation had made a few changes to Cullinan's novel. One, he and the movie's screenwriters made the story's leading man an American of Irish descent, instead of the Irish immigrant portrayed in the novel. The story was set in 1863 Mississippi, during the Vicksburg Campaign. And two of the novels' characters - the 17 year-old biracial Edwina Morrow and the nearly middle-aged Miss Harriet Farnsworth - were merged into a young white schoolteacher named Edwina Dabney. Sofia Coppola's movie maintained the novel's portrayal of leading man as an Irish immigrant and Cullinan's setting - 1864 Virginia, during the Civil War's Overland Campaign. However, Coppola's movie followed Siegel's example by merging the Edwina Morrow and Harriet Farnsworth characters into a schoolteacher.

"THE BEGUILED" began in the woods, near the Farnsworth Seminary, an all girls' school in 1864 Virginia. When one of its students, a thirteen year-old girl named Amy is searching the woods for mushrooms to pick, she comes across a wounded Union Army soldier named Corporal John McBurney. He had been wounded in the leg before deserting the battlefield. Amy brings McBurney to the school where he falls unconscious. The school's headmistress, Miss Martha Farnsworth, decides to heal the corporal's wounded leg before turning him over to the Confederate Army as a prisoner. But Miss Farnsworth, Amy and the other females inside the school become "charmed" by the Irish-born soldier, as he slowly heals from his wounds. Amy, another student named Alicia and the school's remaining teacher, Edwina Morrow, become especially captivated by McBurney's charm. However, McBurney's presence in the school generate a good deal of jealousy between the young students and the two women before an unexpected incident spirals the entire situation out of control.

Like the 1966 novel and its 1971 adaptation, "THE BEGUILED" took me by surprise in many ways. One of the film's most noteworthy aspects was Philippe Le Sourd's cinematography. I have never seen any of his previous film work. But I must admit that his photography did an excellent job in creating this film's Old South atmosphere:



Le Sourd's cinematography definitely helped setting up the film's atmosphere, especially due to the lack of any solid score. I also have to give points to Stacey Battat for creating costumes designs indicative to the Civil War period - especially for women and girls. Mind you, I thought some of the costumes may have been slightly anachronistic.

I also cannot deny that "THE BEGUILED" featured some strong performances from the cast. Nicole Kidman, Colin Farrell and Kirsten Dunst were top-notched, as usual. Kidman did a fine job portraying the no-nonsense and pragmatic headmistress, Martha Farnsworth, who seemed to have little problems with controlling those around her . . . including her only schoolteacher. Despite Martha Farnsworth being her second role as a Southerner (I think), I was surprised that Kidman's Southern accent wavered a bit. Although Farrell is at least twenty years older than the literary John McBurney, he was free to portray the character as was described in Cullinan's novel - an Irish immigrant recently recruited into the Union Army upon his arrival in the United States. However, his McBurney's charm seemed to have more of an edge of desperation, due to his circumstances. And Kirsten Dunst gave a very competent performance as the emotionally repressed Edwina Morrow, a young schoolteacher who finds herself drawn to the handsome McBurney, despite her efforts to ignore him. Dunst also did a competent job in not only conveying Edwina's growing attraction to McBurney, but also her wariness of being under Miss Farnsworth's control.

The movie could also boast some surprisingly excellent performances from the younger cast members, who portrayed the school's students. Elle Fanning gave a decent performance as the adolescent Alicia, whose attraction to McBurney partly stems from her growing awareness of her sexuality. However, there were moments when it seemed she was losing some control of the character. Oona Laurence, Angourie Rice, and Emma Howard also gave very competent performances. But I was especially impressed by Addison Riecke's portrayal of young Marie, an impish student who borrowed Edwina's earrings for the dinner party with McBurney and managed to manipulatively avoid returning them to the schoolteacher. Excellent performance by the young actress.

Although "THE BEGUILED" possessed some admirable traits, overall I was not that impressed by the film. Frankly, I am at a loss over how Coppola managed to win such a prestigious award at the Cannes Film Festival. Perhaps the voters had no idea that the narrative for this film is basically a Southern Gothic tale? Who knows? Coppola had erased so much from Cullinan's story.

One aspect of "THE BEGUILED" that came to my attention was the lack of background for most of the characters at the Farnsworth Seminary. Now, unless my memory is failing me, the movie only revealed the fact that Edwina Morrow had a father living in Richmond. I believe the movie also touched upon the wartime fate of Amelia's brothers. I believe. To be honest, I am not that certain. Coppola deleted Martha Farnsworth's family history - especially her incestuous relationship with her brother. After all, one of the reasons Miss Farnsworth eventually opened up to McBurney was his resemblance to this "much loved" brother. Although the film revealed the existence of Edwina's father, the screenplay never touched upon his role as a war profiteer or his lack of concern toward his daughter. The movie revealed nothing about Alicia's family background - especially her prostitute mother who had abandoned her at the seminary. The movie revealed nothing about the remaining students' backgrounds. McBurney's discoveries and knowledge of their personal histories played a role in the events that occurred in the movie's third act. Without the revelations of the female characters' backgrounds, Coppola resorted to whitewashing the reasons behind their actions in the film's third act.

Coppola claimed that she wanted "THE BEGUILED" to give a "voice" to the story's female characters. Why did she make that claim? Each chapter in Cullinan's 1966 novel was written from the viewpoints of a major female character and NOT . . . from Corporal McBurney's point of view. Although the 1971 film featured scenes from McBurney's point of view, it also did the same for the female characters. Also, McBurney was the only major character who lacked an inner monologue. Since the novel and the 1971 film featured the females' points of view, what on earth was Coppola's goal? To portray her female characters as ideal as possible? I noticed that neither anger or jealousy played a role in the violence that marked the film's third act. 

Alicia slept with McBurney because she was an adolescent "exploring her growing sexuality". Not once did Coppola's screenplay hint how her past experiences with her prostitute mother may have influenced her behavior with the opposite sex. By removing Martha Farnsworth's incestuous history with her late brother - the one whom McBurney resembled, Coppola removed any possibility of Miss Farnsworth being driven by anger and jealousy over his tryst with Alicia to amputate his leg. By having McBurney behave like a borderline stalker in one scene following his amputation, Coppola justified the females' decision to kill him with poisonous mushrooms. It seemed as if Coppola's idea of feminist sensibilities is to portray her female characters with as little flaws as possible. And this led to her portraying the female characters' decisions in the film's last hour to be marred by a lack of moral ambiguity of any kind. This decision on Coppola's part strikes me as cowardly.

If Coppola's decision to portray her females characters with as little ambiguity as possible was bad enough, she also eliminated the school's remaining slave, an African-American woman named Matilda ("Mattie"). Coppola gave a reason for this decision in the following statement:

"I didn’t want to brush over such an important topic in a light way. Young girls watch my films and this was not the depiction of an African-American character I would want to show them."

What depiction was she referring to? Cullinan's portrayal of Mattie in the 1966 novel? The only character who saw through McBurney's charming bullshit and wanted nothing to do with him? Or Hallie (who was renamed) from the 1971 film, who also saw through his charm, despite their occasional bouts of flirting. I had no problems with either Cullinan or Siegel's depictions of the character. Naturally, some movie reviewers supported Coppola's decision, including one reviewer from the ALLIANCE OF WOMEN FILM JOURNALIST, who stated:

"The film has been criticized for its lack of comment on the Civil War or slavery. The war is a backdrop, the circumstance that isolated than part of the story. Unlike the 1966 novel and the 1971 movie, there are no African American characters in this film, explained by a single line says they left. Because it is set in the Civil War, it is a valid point but addressing the issue would have taken the focus off the women’s issues that are Coppola’s main point."

Apparently, Coppola and her supporters do not regard women of color as a part of "women's issues". Or perhaps they feel that non-white women are not . . . women. White feminism at its height. If Coppola felt uncomfortable at the idea in exploring a non-white character, why on earth did she adapt Cullinan's novel in the first place? 

The lack of Mattie/Hallie in Coppola's adaptation raised other problems. One, the slave woman's presence allowed both Cullinan and Siegel to portray the school's other occupants with a level of ambiguity that Coppola lacked the guts to face. I wonder if Mattie's presence would have robbed Coppola the opportunity to explore her fantasies regarding Southern white women. Mattie was one of two characters who knew why Martha Farnsworth was willing to amputate McBurney's leg in the novel. In Don Siegel's movie, she was the only one. This knowledge led to an interesting scene between the two women in both the novel and the 1971 film. In both the novel and the Siegel film, Mattie/Hallie was the person who actually prepared the poisoned mushrooms for McBurney . . . and she did it out of her own anger toward the Union soldier. Without the slave woman, who prepared the mushrooms in this film? Edwina Morrow, who had been serving as the establishment's cook, following the slaves' departure? At the time, she was busy enjoying lustful relations with McBurney. Miss Farnsworth? Did she know how to cook? The movie never established this.

"BEGUILED" did feature scenes of the students and the two teachers engaged in household and garden duties. First of all, none of them looked as if they knew what they were doing. Second of all, since they were such abysmal housekeepers, how did they managed to keep their clothing looking so pristine? Without the benefit of servants?



Judging from the costumes worn in the above image, the female characters do not look as if they are dressed for household duties. Instead, they seemed to be dressed for Sunday church services in the mid 19th century, an afternoon tea party or a picnic. At least other Civil War movie and television productions have their Southern female characters dressed more realistically . . . even the 1939 movie, "GONE WITH THE WIND". I find it difficult to believe that Miss Farnsworth and her fellow inhabitants were capable of keeping their daily clothes looking so pristine - with or without a servant. All of the look like figures in some Southern belle fantasy.

For me, there were other problems in Coppola's adaptation. I had a problem with her characterization of McBurney. Both the novel and the 1971 presented the character as something of a snake-tongued charmer. Farrell's interpretation seemed to present McBurney more as an obsequious man who resorts to slavish politeness, instead of charm, to win over the school's inhabitants. Farrell had the skill to convey McBurney's charm, but it seemed as if Coppola had somehow held him back. Worse, the movie barely touched upon the Civil War, despite the presence of a Union soldier. I also did not understand why Coppola maintained the character of Emily Stevenson, and yet transferred Emily's "pro-Confederate" personality to a character created for the film. Why did she do that? Why did she film this movie in Louisiana? Coppola retained the setting from the novel - Virginia 1864. Yet, she shot the film in the Deep South - a region that looked nothing like Virginia. Coppola could have changed the setting to the Deep South or shoot the film in the Upper South. She did neither. I also need to rephrase my comments regarding Philippe Le Sourd's cinematography. Although I admired his exterior shots in the film, I cannot say the same about his interior shots. Quite frankly, I could barely see a damn thing, even when a scene was set during the daytime.

I am still at a loss on how Sofia Coppola thought she could improve both Thomas Cullinan's novel and Don Siegel's 1971 adaptation. Granted, the cast - including Nicole Kidman, Colin Farrell and Kirsten Dunst - gave competent performances. But Coppola stripped away so much from this story. She stripped away a lot of the characters' ambiguity. She stripped away an important character who had the misfortune - at least in the director's eyes - to be an African-American. Which meant that she stripped away the topic of slavery and to a certain extent, even the war itself. In the end, "THE BEGUILED" seemed like a Southern Gothic tale with barely any life. It struck me as a shell of Cullinan's novel and Siegel's own adaptation. After watching this film, I found myself asking why Coppola felt she could adapt the 1966 novel in the first place, considering that she seemed incapable of exploring it with any semblance of real honesty.